IA09.10
Doctor Who The Internet Adventures #9 REVOLUTION 9 Chapter 10 - Pop Rocks and Mysterious Robed Guys by Jeffery Beuck Angela Ferris shook her head in a mediocre attempt to reorient herself after the jolting disconnection from the alien cyberspace. Abrupt separation from cyberspace was known to be fatal to jackers whose minds remained in the virtual environment when connections were suddenly snapped. Luckily, Angela had installed a few safeguards in her jack, but even they could not prevent the inevitable disorientation of being thrown unexpectedly back into the real world. She had been so close to unlocking the secrets of the alien power accumulator ... a few more codes and she would have had access to the central control. There was some fantastic alien technology in there -- she had found herself both fascinated and frightened by the complex alien programs, safeguards, and locks against which she had battled ... but just as she had been about to hack into the central AI, she had found herself in a swirling cavern where some mysterious robed guy was cackling evilly at an eccentrically dressed man and a little girl .... Where had these strangers come from, and what had happened to her Rutan adapter and Kuldor's progeny? Lady, her head was swimming. "Why did you have to do it?" Weird Clothes was saying indignantly. "The beings on this planet would have left peacefully. There was no need to kill them." She could see him stalking towards the mysterious robed guys, who anxiously backed away. As her eyesight focused, she could see that his face was burnt, as if he had been out in the sun too long. Or been scarred by a heavy blast of radiation. O Great Holy Woman! The alien bastards had incinerated the planet's surface! "This planet was ours," retorted a robed-guy defensively. "We built it as a mass power converter for our fleet, along with several thousand others. When our fleet stopped by to refuel, we found the power transmitters blocked by crude, purposeless structures built by you alien scum." The hooded figure spat at the taller man theatrically. "Besides, what kind of moron builds a home on top of a hyperspatial tachyon reactor?" chipped in the other robed guy. "I mean, really?" The burned man looked away angrily, and turned to Angela. As she got her first good glimpse of his face, she was momentarily taken aback -- she had seen him somewhere before ... "Ms. Ferris, I presume? A few of my friends have been going to a lot of trouble to find you." "St--stay away from me," Angela said, backing away from him, towards the mysterious robed guys. "I'm here to help," said the man, extending a gentle hand and looking into her with charming, alien eyes. Oh, lady -- that's where she'd seen that face before -- in the top secret files she'd stolen in her last hacking job. This man was the highly classified subject whose database the Rutan Alternative Collective had paid her a hundred thousand grotzis to lift from the Secret Earth Dossiers stored on Alcestus! He was the reason she now had half a dozen bounty hunters chasing her across the universe, including that bumbling, incessant Morok. What the hell was this man doing here? "Who are you?" Angela cried, backing away even further. "A friend," the man replied, drawing steadily nearer. "You need medical attention, Angela. You've been badly burned by the radioactive side effects of the nuclear inferno these fu ... *fulsome* aliens used to destroy the surface of this planet. There's nothing more you can do here. Come with me." "You're a bounty hunter! You're with Morok!" she accused. The Mysterious Robed Guys watched the confrontation with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Well, yes, I'm unfortunately acquainted with Mr. Morok, but I promise I won't let him hurt you; and besides ... I rather seem to have lost old Jadi and my young friend Wil at the moment." "Haw, haw, haw!" cackled one of the MRGs. "Your two human friends are currently my prisoners, aboard my ship!" "You mean *my* prisoners," interjected the other one. "Well, yes, whatever ... the point is, we have your friends, and if you ever want to see them alive again, you will do exactly as we say!" Angela rolled her eyes. Were these aliens for real? Were these the same super-technologically advanced aliens who had built this entire planet and whom even the Rutan Alternative Collective respected? "I think you'll find they learned human speech and mannerisms from studying Earth television shows broadcast into space many centuries ago," the little girl piped up. Angela could see now that she, too, had signs of radiation burns. "Unfortunately, they also studied human psychology from the same source, and as you can see, they received a somewhat melodramatic, but inaccurate picture." "Silence!" roared Mysterious Robed Guy Number One. "Oh, allow me to introduce my ... companion, Bea," Morok's friend said. "And let me introduce myself. I am known as the Doctor.'" "The Doctor?" Angela strained to recall the deep, dark secrets about this man she had hacked from his file on Alcestus ... "Silence!" roared Number One again, but he himself fell silent as a hologram of yet another MRG rezzed into existence near the console to which Ferris had been jacked. "Number Nine ... Number Nine ... Number Nine ... come in, Number Nine." "I am here, Number Three," answered the Mysterious Robed Guy Angela had thought of as Number One. Well, she had only been off by two. "Your ship has broken formation and appears to be headed toward the flagship. Complete activation of the power transference protocols and return to your ship immediately. This is an order." "Yes, Number Three." The hologram dissolved. The Mysterious Robed Guy turned toward the three humanoids. "Well, Doctor,' it seems your friends are making a futile attempt to commandeer our ship. Their effort will be in vain, however." The figure turned toward the console, lifted a small control ball from its surface, and popped it into what was probably its mouth, although it was difficult to tell for sure since its hood obscured anything that might have been construed as a face. "Tranthmurring noww," mumbled the Robed Guy. "Doctor, now might be a good time to use the secret weapon,'" whispered Bea, closing her eyes from the pain of the radiation burns. "I agree," replied the Doctor, who produced what appeared to be a garden gnome from under his thin coat. Angela could have sworn there hadn't been a bulge there a moment ago ... *** "... as the priest said to the actress," finished Wil. "Thanks for trying to lighten me up, kid, but I could use your help ... in ... trying ... to ... turn ... this ... ship .... from .... this ... freakin' collision course!" finished Jadi as he pulled so hard on what looked like a control lever that it broke off. The alien flagship grew steadily larger in the forward viewscreen. "You know, this might be a nice time for your Doctor friend to show up. I'd even be willing to settle for the sixty thousand mazumas he owes me and cut my losses on Ferris at this point." "Sixty thousand! I thought it was forty thousand?" "Inflation. Besides, the mazuma isn't worth what it was a year ago. Damn Deremarian stock market collapse ..." "Hey, how about this?" suggested Wil, holding up a small rock curiously similar to the one the Doctor had picked up in the cave. "Oh, no! I ain't puttin' no alien rock in my mouth." Wil shrugged, closed his eyes, and popped the stone into his mouth. It was curiously smooth, and felt tingly, like the little pop rocks candy Gareth had made him eat once as a child ... "You did it, kid!" Wil felt the ship stop moving, and opened his eyes to see Jadi grinning inanely at him. Wil tried to smile back, but it was difficult with a large rock in his mouth. "I bet you never knew your tongue could do such fantastic things." He whacked Wil on the back playfully, and Wil gulped. The ship began to move again. "Whoa -- what's happening?" Jadi asked. "I think I swallowed it," Wil muttered shamefacedly. *** Tim Matheson couldn't wait for the debriefing from UNIT. He didn't really care too terribly much what had happened to the Doctor and the woman who had been with him, but he felt the overwhelming urge to tell the world how his friends had been brutally murdered, and to make sure the people responsible rotted in a deep, dark, dungeon for the rest of their lives. He had never really believed in government conspiracies, but he knew there was something rotten in London. The people from UNIT had been nothing but kind to him so far, and he would do whatever he could to assist them in exposing this decay at the heart of the nation. So it came as a bit of a shock when the Doctor entered the room and, well, shocked him. *** "Mommy, tell us the story about the monster once again." "And the old brigadier, before you." "Yes, please, momma!" "Now, children, there will be plenty of time for tales later," said Ancelyn, coming up to Winifred and kissing her. "Now hurry off to bed." The twins ran off to their bedrooms, and Ancelyn embraced Winifred and began to shake her violently ... "Brigadier! Wake up! What happened?" "Huh?" mumbled Winifred, attempting to reorient herself after the jolting separation from her dream. Sergeant John Lock was bent over her, shaking her awake. "Stop that. I'm awake now," she ordered. She climbed groggily to her feet, trying to recall what had happened. "The Doctor. There's a fake Doctor in the building! And he's trying to get to Matheson! Quick! Seal off all the exits! Have anyone looking like the Doctor arrested on sight! If he offers resistance, you are authorized to use lethal force!" UNIT soldiers scrambled to find the false Doctor, but they were too late. They combed the building and grounds but found no sign of the ersatz Doctor or the young man, Matheson. They did, however, find the dead body of one Captain Wildeman, whose shape the renegade Rutan had assumed in order to smuggle out the prisoner. *** The thing in the shape of a blond man smiled as the two scientists were thrust into the room. "Sit down, sit down," he gestured. Drs. Browning and Booth sat down uncomfortably in hard-backed plastic chairs. "Tell me, doctors -- do you know who I am?" "Certainly not," replied Booth. "Afraid not," added Browning. "Good." The blonde man stood up. "You recently came into contact with the subject of an experiment we were performing here. I would like to know just how much you learned about the subject while ... she was in your care." Booth stood up indignantly. "Look, what is the meaning of this? Where are we? And who are you? Are you some kind of secret government agency? If so, I demand to phone my solicitor. You have no right to keep us here!" "I have every right," hissed the blond man, pulling an automatic from under his desk and lining up the laser sight upon the balding man's forehead. A bead of sweat trickled down Dr. Booth's scalp. The blond man turned to Dr. Browning. "What did you discover about the subject?" "We know the subject had two hearts, a body temperature of 60 degrees Farenheit, and a blood type unlike that of anyone on record," Rebecca replied stonily. "That's all we know. Was she some kind of alien?" "I'm afraid not," the blond man said, lowering his gun. "I'm afraid you know too much, though." The door opened, and a pair of soldiers in camouflage fatigues entered, manhandling the two protesting scientists from their chairs. "Take them to the Darkhouse." As the cries of indignation faded down the corridor, the blond man wondered just how long it would take he and the other members of the Rutan Collective to learn the secrets of the Doctor. There were only four Rutans on Earth at present, but any more would have drawn suspicion from an already suspicious secret organization. He sighed a strangely electronic sigh. His other half was returning with the human boy picked up by UNIT. They'd put him into the Darkhouse too. Once they were finished with him. No one ever left the Darkhouse. To Be Continued . . . "I'm a Zarbi girl, In a Zarbi world. Ants of plastic Aren't our webs fantastic? Don't have any hair Got pinchers everywhere, Controlling collars, Acid pools and flowers. Come on Zarbi, let's go party, ah-ah-ah-ah ..." -Lesser known Menoptera folk song